Ever wake sensing you're getting the hairy eyeball?
Maybe it's paranoia, but a half hour before my new wake up time (an hour and a half earlier than is my custom) I "know" I'm being sized up. Certain, that if I move a muscle I'll be devoured.
Explorers and Indian fighters knew that feeling. Many wrote of how the sound of distant drums put the fear into them, causing the bravest to see warriors in their sleep. I know that sound, the sound of dogs waking next to me, shaking their heads as they stretch, first one then the other, then all together. To hear their tags jingle is to hear the warriors. My reveille; day has begun, just not on my schedule.
Yet, they ignore my sleeping bride.
Pretending to sleep while my face is licked is a skill I refuse to master. Beginning each day laughing, no matter how much I yearn for another 10 minutes sleep is a fabulous joy. Wet noses and sharp claws digging under pillows, wagging tails slapping against the head board optimistic about the day's potential, how better to start your day? It puts me in mind of weekend mornings when my children were little. A memory that becomes brighter every day.
Or, as Mrs. T reminds each morning, there is no rest for the wicked.